


It's Quiet

by sabasama



Category: Free!
Genre: Drabble, Freeform, M/M, Slight fluff, slight angst, word vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 11:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2770592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabasama/pseuds/sabasama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's quiet. The moonlight filtering through the window casts soft rays, caressing bare backs and flickering over rumpled sheets. It's quiet, but the sound of the wind, usually drowned out by the noise of daylight, is whispering softly outside, dancing over houses and tiptoeing through the grass and whirling through the sands on the shore just down the street. It's quiet, just quiet enough for Rin to hear the gentle and delicate breathing of the warm body laying beside him. </p><p>Or, Rin longing to touch Haru and make sure that he's real and everything's just fine.</p><p>Rated T for a tiny portion of suggestive language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> Late night Drabble. Forgive me for any mistakes and for how messy this is. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> (while it didn't necessarily fit the plot of this story, I was listening to Jealous by Labrinth while writing this)

It's quiet. The moonlight filtering through the window casts soft rays, caressing bare backs and flickering over rumpled sheets. It's quiet, but the sound of the wind, usually drowned out by the noise of daylight, is whispering softly outside, dancing over houses and tiptoeing through the grass and whirling through the sands on the shore just down the street. It's quiet, just quiet enough for Rin to hear the gentle and delicate breathing of the warm body laying beside him.

 

It's quiet. It's an unusual hour, but a car drives by outside and its headlights cast blaring pillars of light that quiver and slither over the walls and sheets and desk and bodies. For just a moment, Haruka's face is set aglow and the seemingly translucent skin shines brilliantly, prompting Rin to squint his eyes unwillingly (he can't take his eyes off him, not now, not when there's this gnawing feeling just below the film of his skin that keeps saying

 

 _it's not real, he's not real, this can't be real)_.

 

In the same second, another ray of light follows and Rin swears he can see the blue of his eyes shining through the crystalline skin of Haruka's eyelids.

 

It's quiet again after the car is gone.

 

So quiet Rin can almost hear the pumping of his blood, the ticking of the clock down the stairs. The moon is once again the only source of light in Haruka's room and Rin waits for his eyes to adjust, not wanting to waste a moment that could be spent on intently memorizing every line and curve and bump and edge of Haruka's face and making entirely sure that this person in front of him, warming the sheets with him, breathing softly with him, living on this planet, in this universe and time with him, is truly and wholly there.

 

Haruka's face comes back into focus and Rin holds his breath, terrified that any small movement could shatter everything. Haruka's skin is shining in an almost ethereal light and Rin isn't sure anymore if he's purposely holding his breath or simply cannot breathe. He wants to reach over so badly--he needs to reach over so badly, his hand is twitching but the signals aren't reaching his brain and his brain isn't sending signals. But his brain is torn. One side fears that any sudden movement will crumble the beautiful lull in time that Rin and Haruka seem to be suspended in, and the other side desperately wants to make sure that _yes, yes Rin, this is real_ (he is real and alive and breathing and that is _his_ taste still lingering on your tongue and that is the burn _his_ fingertips left on you only hours ago and that is the caress of _his_ breath still dancing and twirling and flying over the skin of your neck and lips and thighs).

 

It's quiet and Haruka shifts slightly, so slightly it would have been impossible to notice if Rin's gaze wasn't already focused in and it reminds Rin of the minute and minuscule ways that Haruka's expressions shift and morph during the day, the ones Rin misses by simply blinking or turning away a fraction of a second too early. But he sees it now, the little crinkle between Haruka's thin brows, the way the corners of his lips are downturned by just the slightest degree.

 

It's quiet and the sound of the sheets rustling and slipping is almost tantamount to the sound of rushing, gushing water as Rin tentatively and decisively lifts his hand and he can't tell if everything is suddenly playing in slow motion or if his arm is indeed moving that slowly (it doesn't matter though, it doesn't matter, there's no rush).

 

It's quiet but Rin can't tell because the sound of his heart repeatedly and violently thumping in his chest is the only noise filling his mind.

 

Rin feels the cool and smooth skin of Haruka's face before he even registers it with his eyes. Again, he can't breathe and it's truly quiet this time, as if he's just submerged his head underwater. His fingertips are gently and hesitantly pressing against the wrinkle between Haruka's eyes. Rin feels the muscles give way and relax underneath his touch as he feels his own relax and slowly, like ink leaking and seeping into paper, the sounds of the still night come back. Now, not only can Rin hear Haruka's shallow breathing, he can also feel the gentle rise and fall of his body and the wisps of cool breath on his wrist.

 

It's quiet and Rin gently and deliberately--yet still with an amount of wariness--glides the tips of his fingers up and over Haruka's forehead to travel to his temple. Rin's fingers linger there for a moment, awestruck by the way the glow and brilliance of Haruka's skin seems to shine off of and envelop Rin's whole hand (how wonderful is it, to be able to fill yourself with the light of someone else.

 

 _My shining._ )

 

His hand moves with an over abundance of reverence that threatens to spill out from the deepest depths of Rin and drown them both. It's quiet, so quiet Rin can hear the sound of his skin skimming over Haruka's. Before he can think better of it, before the signal even reaches his brain, Rin's palm is flattening over the swell of Haruka's cheek and his slender, calloused fingers are threading through the ends of his dark hair. His thumb brushes over the corner of Haruka's lips but he dares not go further.

 

(Now his brain is sending out millions and millions of signals to stop, stop, because you're pushing the boundaries, be careful, _you'll break it, you'll break it like you always do, don't ruin this to--_ )

 

It's quiet, and nothing happens. The warmth from Haruka's cheek just seeps into the palm of Rin's hand and it feels right. It feels fine. It feels real. He's real. Haruka is real and Haruka is here, laying beside Rin and sharing his space and body and love with Rin, he's sharing his love for Rin with Rin and what more can he ask for?

 

(Nothing more. You can't ask for anything more. You've taken too much and given so little. What can you even give? What can you give that would equal all you've taken and continue to take?

 

_What more can you give him besides your presence and love?_

 

Stop running.)

 

 

It's quiet and Rin hears the sound of rushing, gushing water before he sees the luminescent hand fluidly and seamlessly rising and cresting and finally resting atop his. It's cool and light like thick mist. Rin flinches imperceptibly but he doesn't pull his hand away and Haruka doesn't open his eyes but Rin can almost see them through the thin film of his eyelids, like unmoving pools gleaming in the pale moonlight through a thick fog. Haruka's thumb brushes over his knuckles in what Rin translates to a gentle and soothing touch and every inch and corner of his body melts and pools and slips and cascades over the edge of the bed.

 

( _It's fine, Rin. I'm here. I'm real. This is real. Go to sleep._ )

 

...

 

It's quiet, no wind, no passing cars, only soft breathing, when Rin's eyes finally slide shut and he's not entirely certain, but he vaguely registers the cool thick mist sliding into the empty spaces between his fingers and squeezing and remaining and comforting and cooling.

 

It's quiet in the morning too, when the cool thick mist brushes and dances slowly over Rin's lips and cheeks and neck--

 

( _and it's real_ ).

**Author's Note:**

> This is considered freeform, yes? 
> 
> Oh well. I hope I'll be as proud of this in the morning as I am now. I'd love to hear what you guys think, since this is my first time trying something like this.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
